


it was saturday night

by dont_you_cry



Series: can't get enough so stay [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8978995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dont_you_cry/pseuds/dont_you_cry
Summary: It was just an awkward situation sitting across from Jeff just hours after he’d been left alone in bed. Mike had planned on ordering waffles for two from room service after sleeping in until noon, but instead here he was staring at Jeff who was on his third mimosa already.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bananamuffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananamuffin/gifts).



> based on the prompt "I slept with you last night and I didn’t know we had a mutual friend and now we’re sitting across from each other at brunch and it’s awkward bc you ran out while I was asleep"

Mike wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing in the club, but he knew it was Sharpy’s fault. The strobe lights were distracting, the thumping bass too powerful to be able to hear whatever shitty techno music the DJ was spinning. His drink was overpriced and he was beginning to wish he’d stayed back in Philly for the long weekend.

Patrick Sharp had gotten the bright idea to head out to Vegas for Labor Day because (in his words) “Saturday’s are for the boys Mikey! Saturday’s are for the boys!!” At the time it sounded like a good idea—the semester had just started and he was already in need of a break—but now he was starting to regret his decision.

One of Sharpy’s buddies from back home had gotten them all in for free and with VIP privileges, so at least he had that going for him. Mike hadn’t seen Sharpy around in the last half hour, but he figured he was off with some of the guys whose names he already couldn’t remember.

“Well shit,” Mike thinks. It could be worse he guesses. At least has the chance to pick up while he’s out tonight. He’s surrounded by possibilities, Sin City and all that. He figures he’ll have a few drinks and wait to see if something pans out.

There was that girl he danced with a few songs back. She seemed nice enough and definitely interested in him, but his heart wasn’t really in it. He ended up excusing himself to the bar, grabbing a beer and proceeding to scan the room, waiting for someone to catch his eye.

The music in the club abruptly shifts from some Justin Bieber remix to “We Dem Boyz” by Wiz Khalifa and suddenly Sharpy is in front of Mike, yelling and jumping to the beat. He pulls Mike to his feet, shoving a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up,” Sharpy sings, hanging off Mike’s shoulders as he chugs the bubbly drink.

“How’s it goin’ man,” Mike asks after pulling the bottle from his lips. Sharpy was _wasted_ , Mike could tell and he hoped Sharpy had found someone else to take care of him for the night.

“Mikey! I’m great. Totally, totally great,” Sharpy replies, words slurring together. He tries to pull it together, looking Mike in the eyes.

“Look, I know I said this weekend was for The Boys, but I met this girl and I think I’m gonna head out with her,” he says. “That’s cool with you, right?” 

Mike laughs back at him. “Yeah, bud. You go on, have some fun.” 

Sharpy takes another swig of champagne. “Fuckin’ right dude. Okay, I’m going to head out, but first, there’s someone I need you to meet--”

Mike is quick to stop him there. “Nah, don’t bother Sharpy. Go have fun with your girl. I’m good here.”

He doesn’t look happy about it, but Mike’s not going to let Sharpy try to hook him up with anyone. It’s never ended well and he definitely doesn’t trust Sharpy’s drunken Vegas judgment.

“Get outta here,” Mike says, shoving Sharpy a bit. “I’ll catch ya in the morning.”

Sharpy turns and heads for the stairs yelling a quick “Be safe, don’t do anything I wouldn’t!” before disappearing into the crowd of people downstairs.

Turning back to their booth Mike sees a guy with blond hair standing a few feet away. The guy is tall; he probably has four or five inches on him and is wearing a gray button-down shirt with khakis. His shirtsleeves are rolled up, exposing tanned muscled forearms. Mike thinks he would look good with a backward snapback and during that train of thought manages to catch the guy’s eye.

Mike’s quickly breaks eye contact, but the guy is already walking over. Feigning nonchalance, Mike bobs his head to the music until the guy is standing in front of him. 

“Hey,” the guy yells over the music, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m Carts.”

Mike grins back. Carts is hot and he knows it and that’s something Mike is _definitely_ into. “Richie,” he says back. Following up quickly with “Want to get out of here?”

Carts’ smirk grows wider. “Lead the way,” he answers.

Mike grabs his hand and does just that.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Mike wakes the next morning naked in his hotel room bed. Sunlight is pouring in through the windows and he wishes he would’ve remembered to pull the curtains shut when he got back from the club with Carts.

With that thought he throws his arm across the bed, expecting to feel Carts beside him, but comes up empty. Confused, Mike sits up quickly and looks around the room. At first, he thinks Carts might just be in the bathroom, but he can see the door wide open with the light off from where he sits on the bed. Carts isn’t there anymore, he must’ve left while Mike was still sleeping.

What an asshole, he thinks. Mike’s had his fair share of one-night stands, but he never leaves without saying goodbye. That’s not proper etiquette in his opinion. If you liked someone enough to sleep with them, the least you could do was share breakfast together the next morning.

Mike flops back down onto the mattress, leaning over to grab his phone off the nightstand where he’d left it to charge. He scrolls through Instagram, laughing at a group shot Sharpy posted of some of the guys in their group last night. Most of them were Sharpy’s friends that he didn’t recognize, but it was still a great shot of the night.

“We dem boyzzz” he types into a comment, adding a sunglasses emoji before hitting post. He then checks his text messages, hoping Sharpy was already awake and knew where they were meeting for breakfast.

Sure enough, there was a message waiting for him. 

 ** _Sharpy_ ** _: Breakfast downstairs. Be there @ 11._

Mike’s stomach growled at the thought of food and he checked the time on his phone. It read 10:30 so he decided to take a quick shower before heading out. He wanted to get there before Sharpy to get a head start on the caffeine he was going to need to put up with the inevitable line of questioning was going to have for him.

As he stepped into the bathroom he groaned upon looking in the mirror. The line of questions was going to be hell when he got downstairs as he leaned in to inspect the dark purple marks on the base and side of his neck.

“Fuck,” he muttered, thinking of a way he could hide from Sharpy. It was hot in Vegas, he couldn’t get away with wearing a scarf. He was just going to have to endure the Sharp Inquisition.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Mike manages to beat Sharpy and the others to the restaurant so he asks the hostess for a large table in the back. When a waitress walks over he orders a cup of coffee and the bottomless mimosas 

“Just keep ‘em coming,” he tells her with a smile. “We’re gonna need it.”

As he’s starting in on his second cup of coffee he sees Sharpy walking to the table with G and the others in tow.

“Morning Mikey,” Sharpy says before taking a seat next to him. Mike eyes him, wondering why he’s in such a good mood.

“What’s up with you,” Mike asks. He takes another drink of coffee as Sharpy answers.

“It’s that girl,” he says. “The one from last night. She’s The One.”

Mike just laughs because Sharpy is ridiculous, but he knows he means it.

“Well then you have to let me meet her, eh,” he replies. He then turns to G to ask how his night went and realizes G is already looking at him. Well, not really _looking_ as much as he’s blatantly staring and not at Mike’s face--at his neck.

Heat rises to Mike’s face as G begins to laugh and point.

“Oh man Richie,” he yells. “Someone got you good!”

“Shut up G,” Mike hisses. He really, _really_ , doesn’t want Sharpy to overhear, but he knows it’s already too late.

Sharpy’s standing over Mike’s chair in an instant, leaning in to get a better look at Mike’s neck. Mike tries to push him away, but he knows it’s a lost cause. He’s going to have to come up with some kind of story to tell.

“Daaaaaamnnnnnn,” Sharpy draws out. “Looks like someone had some fun last night, Mikey. I would say you might’ve had more fun than I did, but no one had more fun than me. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, what of it,” Mike mutters. “I picked up. What’s the big deal?”

“What of it,” Sharpy repeats. “I want details, that’s what of it. Spill!”

Mike rolls his eyes. He’s not going to give any of them any details and Sharpy knows that, but that doesn’t mean Sharpy won’t use this as an opportunity to rag on him.

“Cmon bud,” Sharpy complains. “What was her name? Or his name? What’d they look like? I wanna know!”

Mike laughs at his insistence but keeps his mouth shut. Sharpy will get bored eventually and there will be something better to talk about soon. He just hopes it happens sooner rather than later.

A distraction comes quickly as someone walks up to the table. Mike assumes it’s the waitress so he takes a quick look down at the menu to confirm his order for himself.

“Sorry for being late,” the voice says. “I overslept and couldn’t find my phone as I was about to leave.”

Mike snaps his head up because he recognizes that voice. It belongs to… 

“Jeff” Sharpy exclaims. “Good to see ya bud, I was worried you weren’t going to show. Here, let me introduce you to Mike, I didn’t get the chance before I left last night.”

Mike is glowering in Carts’ (AKA Jeff apparently) direction and doesn’t make a move to introduce himself.

Jeff shifts uncomfortably on his feet, not meeting Mike’s harsh gaze.

“Oh yeah, um we met last night,” he says. “Hey, Richie.”

Mike doesn’t respond, but Sharpy is oblivious.

“Oh really?” he asks. “That’s great! Here Jeff have a seat across from us, we were just about to order.”

The waitress comes back to take down their selections. An omelet for Sharpy, waffles and a side of bacon for Mike and the French toast special for Jeff, who also orders another round of mimosas.

“Can you just leave the bottle when you come back,” Jeff pleads. 

Their waitress gives him a look but responds in the affirmative and whisks off to the kitchen to place their order. Mike makes a mental note to leave her a big tip.

“Sooo,” Sharpy starts. “How do you two know each other?”

Mike just looks at Jeff, making it clear that he’s not planning on speaking.

Jeff downs another mimosa and only says “we, uh, met at the club last night.”

A long pause follows, one filled with awkward silence and tension.

Sharpy gives them both a weird look. His eyes flicker from each man’s face like he’s trying to understand what’s not being said.

“Why are you both being so weird,” he asks. “What the hell is going on? You guys are looking like you know what each other's dicks look like."

Mike sputters into his coffee at the last part. As he’s coughing he can see the realization as it clicks for Sharpy in his mind.

"...No way," Sharpy breathes.

The wicked gleam in Sharpy’s eye grows as his eyes continue to flicker between both of their faces.

Mike looks down into his coffee cup as if it holds the answers to the universe and Jeff may be 6’4”, but he’s definitely trying out the theory that the further he slouches in his seat the more invisible he’ll become.

No one else at the table seems to have caught on to Sharpy’s discovery; they’re all too preoccupied with G’s story about how he almost got arrested and Mike’s thankful. The fewer people that know about this, the better. 

Sharpy’s unable to start pressuring them for answers as their food arrives and everyone falls silent as they dig in.

He thinks that maybe he’ll get lucky and Sharpy will drop it, but Sharpy being Sharpy can’t let anything slide.

He begins badgering Mike, making awful innuendos using the sausage on his plate for inspiration.

"C'mon Sharpy, you don't even like sausage. You get bacon every single time we go out," Mike complains, still hoping somehow the floor will open up and save him from this brunch.  He thinks about going back upstairs to his room, but he didn’t want _Jeff_ to think he was scared of him or anything ridiculous like that.

It was just an awkward situation sitting across from Jeff just hours after he’d been left alone in bed. Mike had planned on ordering waffles for two from room service after sleeping in until noon, but instead here he was staring at Jeff who was on his third mimosa already.

"Nah, you're right Richie," Sharpy replies, the smile on his face widening making Mike wish he had just kept his mouth shut.

"I don't like sausage, but you do. Do you want my sausage, Richie?" he asks, dangling the food in front of Mike's face.

Mike scoffs and slaps the fork away, glaring at him, willing him to just shut up.

Sharpy's eyes widen as he feigns shock, gasping in dramatic fashion.

"I can't believe you just did that, what the hell Mikey," he says, barely concealing urge to laugh.

"Is it because they’re mine?" Sharpy asks, before turning his attention to Jeff.

"Would you want them if they were from Jeff? Hey, Cartsy, c’mon give Richie your--" Sharpy cuts off abruptly, face scrunching in pain.

Mike looks over at Jeff who's smirking at Sharpy over his coffee mug. He puts two and two together easily enough and begrudgingly sends silent thanks to Jeff for whatever pain he just inflicted that got Sharpy to shut his mouth.

The rest of the breakfast passes uneventfully, Sharpy tries to keep up a conversation, but Mike isn’t cooperating. He just wants to finish eating so he can get out of there. 

As the other guys get up to make moves for some pool time, Mike takes the opportunity to slip away from the table and starts off towards the elevators. He hits the button a few times hoping no one had followed him, but luck isn’t on his side.

Jeff walks up next to him and stops, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as Mike tries to ignore his presence. 

“Um,” Jeff starts, cutting off to clear his throat.

Mike looks up at him, only sort of interested in what he might have to say.

“Yeah uh, do you think I could check to see if I left my phone in your room,” Jeff asks. “I can’t find it and that was the last place I was at so…”

Mike narrows his eyes at him and thinks of saying no. _Screw him_ , he thinks to himself, but “Yeah sure, whatever” is what he says in response.

“Thanks,” Jeff replies and they step on the elevator. 

It falls silent between them and Mike wishes they weren’t the only two sharing the small space. As irritated as he is, he’s still attracted to Jeff and he briefly thinks about crowding into his space and kissing him.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts as they reach his floor and he leads the way to his room, grabbing his key card out of his pocket and unlocking the door.

Mike walks in, not bothering to look at Jeff and throws himself onto the bed.

“Have a look around, man,” he says. He closes his eyes and hopes that Jeff finds it fast and leaves so he can sulk for a bit before going down to the pool.

“Got it!” Jeff cheers after a few moments of rustling, finding it on the floor at the foot of the bed. When Mike opens his eyes Jeff is staring down at him with a smile on his face. 

“Cool man, now get out,” Mike mutters and closes his eyes shut again.

“Hey, Mike,” Jeff starts. “Look, man, I’m sorry I didn’t know you knew Patrick. I didn’t know you’d be down there at breakfast. I didn’t mean to make it awkward.”

Mike laughs at that a bit, huffing air out of his nose, but doesn’t respond more than that.

“I’ll see you around, maybe,” Jeff says, turning to leave.

Mike means to let him just walk out— _should_ just let him walk out—but for some reason, he opens his mouth and stops Jeff from leaving.

“Why’d you leave while I was sleeping,” he asks, judgment creeping into his tone. “That was an asshole move, bud.”

Jeff gives him a strange look. 

“I left you a note, on the table over there,” he replies. “Didn’t you see it?”

Mike definitely hadn’t seen any damn note and tells Jeff the same.

“You left a note,” he says, sitting up and looking over at the table.

“Yeah,” Jeff responds. “I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. I woke up to the text from Patrick about breakfast and I had to go back to my room to change. If I had shown up in last night’s clothes he would’ve roasted me, you know how he is.”

Mike laughs openly now. Sharpy would’ve had a field day, Jeff was right. It would’ve gone the same way it had for Mike showing up with the marks from Jeff on his neck.

“You would’ve deserved it,” he laughs. “I had to put up with their shit for what you did to me” and points to his neck.

Jeff seems to relax as Mike jokes with him and a hint of blush rises to his cheeks.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says sheepishly. “In my defense, you were really into it last night.”

Mike goes quiet, thinking about last night and about how Jeff is here standing in his room. He definitely wasn’t expecting this to happen. He hadn’t ever expected to see Jeff again when he’d woken up this morning, but here Jeff was.

In his room.

And he was Sharpy’s friend. 

Groaning, Mike flops back down onto his back and pats the bed beside him inviting Jeff over. Jeff quickly walks over and sits down carefully until Mike tugs on Jeff’s shirt pulling him to lie beside him.

“You know Sharpy is never going to let us live this down, right,” Mike says to Jeff as he moves closer so he can look at Jeff while still laying his head on his shoulder.

“No, he won’t” Jeff replies, raising his hand to cup Mike’s jaw.

“How about we give him more to talk about,” Mike suggests.

  
“Agreed,” Jeff answers and he leans in to press a kiss on Mike’s lips.

**Author's Note:**

> there's no real reason that Patrick Sharp is the mutual friend in this fic other than the fact that I miss him a lot and the three of them played together for a few months back in Philly during the '05-'06 season before Sharpy was traded.
> 
> title comes from "little red corvette" by prince, the world's greatest song about a one night stand


End file.
